


Her Little Garthy

by 9r7g5h



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Fantasy High
Genre: Family Relationships - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9r7g5h/pseuds/9r7g5h
Summary: In which a previous Ayda gains her child.
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort & Garthy O'Brien
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	Her Little Garthy

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So, Garthy specifically stated that they were from Zajiri celestials, and they’re a half orc. While Ayda could be their bio mother, Ayda has also said in her notes that she hasn’t been in love with anyone for at least the last three lifetimes, spanning the last 150 years. Garthy is nowhere near that old, and Ayda is half phoenix, not related to the Zajiri at all, while Garthy also exhibits no bird-like features. So, best conclusion is adopted families and with the cuteness of Jawbone adopting Adaine, this went ahead and popped out as well. 
> 
> And for all my other fandoms, I will hopefully be getting back into writing more fanfic soon, life's just been rough, lol.

Ayda Augefort legitimately wasn’t used to people being inside of her library. Other than Roland, who she had hired many, many years ago as a young man, it was common for her to pass her many days reading and writing and studying without seeing a single other soul. Silence, broken only by the sound of her quill on paper and the rustle of pages, the occasional thunk as she dropped a book back into place, her hands getting a bit too old for the larger of them. 

It was nice, in a way. She was old, early fifties by her count, as inaccurate as it was, since she didn’t have an exact date of her last reincarnation. The person she had hired, according to her notes, to take care of her had skipped out when she was young, leaving Roland for the task he was woefully unprepared for. But he had taught her to read and write and use the magic within her, all the things her absent father should have done, so she was grateful, to him and for the silence. She knew she was off, knew something about her seemed strange to others, and so she accepted and enjoyed the silence for what it was. 

Except, now, there was an orc woman standing in her library. Clearly suffering from exhaustion, weakened by some unknown affliction Ayda would have to study later, and, most obvious and concerning, coated in blood both her own and not. Her clothes were tattered, clearly showing signs of the fight she had most likely been in just a short while before, especially since her sword was still dripping blood onto the wood of Ayda’s library. 

She was also cradling an infant in her other arm, another thing that intrigued Ayda, but that would have to wait for further examination. 

“Please,” the orc woman said, holding out the infant to Ayda. “Please, take her.” 

Ayda had had very little interaction with children in this life, though a previous one who had made children of various species their subject of investigation had left incredibly detailed notes. So she knew how to cradle the child’s head with her elbow, keeping the infant face up so it could breathe, the runes on her arms flaring slightly to produce the extra heat something so small would most certainly need.  
It was so tiny. Fascinating. 

“Do you require assistance?” Ayda asked once she had made sure the child was secure, her mind content that said task was complete. “I am not a healer, but I can escort you to-“

“No,” the orc woman said, even as she unsteadily lowered herself to the floor. “No, please, just, let’s just stay inside. No one will bother us here.” 

Ayda wanted to ask what the orc woman meant, but there was also part of her that could take a very well-educated guess as to what she was talking about. Ayda was considered weird here on the Leviathan, an anomaly, a magic user amongst all of the pirates that focused on swords and their primitive miniature cannons. Sure, there were some pirates that knew a bit of magic, enough to call up a wind to fill their sails, or those druids who were trying to grow a garden on the north western side of the city, but nothing like her. 

There was nothing like her anywhere. 

Except, to an extent, the infant she was now holding in her arms. 

It was clear the child was a celestial, probably from one of the angelic fiends that inhabited orcish religions. Zajiri, if she had to take a guess, though she would have to reexamine the child and compare the brief mental notes she had taken to the books she knew she had, second floor, twelfth row on the left side of the library. Maybe she could convince the mother to let her borrow the child for a bit, later, when she wasn’t slowly leaking a large puddle of blood. 

“Are you sure you do not require assistance? I am available to help if you require it.” For, of course, a fair and reasonable price, but Ayda had been taught to not bring that up when someone was in obvious danger. It was rude, and could potentially hold up events that needed to happen at a quicker pace. 

Still, the orc woman shook her head. 

“No, I’m alright,” the woman said. She took a few deep breathes, placed her hand over her lower stomach, and the puddle of blood stopped growing as a low light glowed from her hand. A healer, then. “I just needed somewhere safe to rest for a bit.” She stopped for a moment, looked at Ayda. “I’ve heard what you can do. What kind of person you are. Figured you wouldn’t hurt a baby, and could maybe help ward off those who would.” 

Ayda gave a jerky nod of her head, adjusting her arm as her shoulder started to feel sore. She disliked violence, though she was well versed in quite a number of spells to protect herself and her library as necessary. She had actually just been working on one a short while before, to help with the unraveling of someone’s very essence. A work in progress, but it showed promise. 

“Your child is a celestial.” A statement, though perhaps with the slightest bit of a question behind it. 

“As are you,” the orc woman said back, giving a small shrug. “Don’t know what you are,” she added, “but mine at least isn’t a bird.” 

Ayda gave a squawk of laughter, finding humor in the orc woman’s statement, she following with a chuckle of her own shortly after. 

“It’s funny, because I’m only part bird, and your child doesn’t seem to have any bird within them,” Ayda explained, the orc woman giving a nod at her explanation. No other words, but still the nod made her feel warm inside, at least for a moment. “Is that why you came here, because of our shared heritage from the celestial realms? If you’re looking for information on your child’s legacy, I could be of some service.” 

A shake of the head, the orc woman’s previous brief smile disappearing. “You’re strong, right?” 

Another jerky nod from Ayda. 

“Strong enough to protect a baby, if anyone should try to harm it?” 

Another jerky nod, though this one with confusion. 

“I am not sure why anyone would try to harm a child, especially in the presence of a wizard, but if you need my help keeping this one safe, I would be happy to help. Do you require this assistance?” 

“Good,” the orc woman said. After another moment of sitting, she forced herself to rise, Ayda rising with her, not even aware of when she had sat on the floor to be face to face with this strange orc woman, the child still in her hands. “Look,” the orc woman continued, stretching out the soreness in her muscles that remained even after the healing, “there some asshole out there, James Whitclaw or some shit, who wants to eat my baby’s brains. Kidnapped me from my ship when the word got out that I was birthing something special, thinks it might help him become king or something someday. I’ll be damned before I let that bastard touch that skull, but I’m badly outnumbered. I won’t ask you to come with me, but no one will try to take my baby from you here. Will you watch her until I come back?” 

Ayda paused for a moment, looking down at the child in her arms. Sleeping soundly, maybe a few hours old, still wrinkly and that weird newborn orcish green before it settled into its permanent shade.  
“Will you allow me to research your child during this time, until you return for it?” 

The orc woman snorted and nodded her agreement. “Thought you might say that, from what I’ve heard of ya.” 

“Then by the seven seas and the twelve stars and the nine hells, I will care for your child as my own until you have returned to claim it.” Ayda’s runes flared as she spoke her oath, the orc woman satisfied with that response. 

“Let me see her real quick then,” the orc woman said, holding out her arms. Ayda was careful handing the child over, watching curiously as the orc woman sniffed the infant’s head, held it close to her chest, and placed a quick kiss on its forehead, causing it to coo and murmur in its sleep. 

A brief pang of jealousy, that Ayda quickly forgot about as the child was returned to her care. 

“Garthy,” the orc woman said as she reached the door, not turning back. “The babe’s name is Garthy O’Brien.” And with that the orc woman was gone, sword on her should, prepared to go make the world a safer place for her child. 

Ayda leaned down as the door closed shut and sniffed the infant’s head, her eyebrow raising as she smelled the strange scent the newborn gave off. Not the various odors one expected from a child, pleasant but not overly so. Fascinating. 

“Well, Garthy,” Ayda said as she headed towards the stairs, shifting the child in her arms to a more comfortable position, “I have promised your mother that I would care for you as if you were my own. While I have never had children, as far as my knowledge of my past lives allows me, you are now legally mine until your mother returns. An hour? Maybe two? That should be enough time for me to study you, get a sense of your origins.” 

At some point during her statement, one of Garthy’s large eye slid open, looking up at Ayda with sleep and curiosity in equal measures. Curious pupils, a wonderful color, just hinting at the mystic within the child, just waiting to be found.

Ayda leaned down and kissed Garthy on the forehead, the child quickly lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her runes, safe and warm until its mother returned. 

***

Ayda Augefort legitimately wasn’t used to people being inside of her library. Other than Roland, who she had hired many, many years ago as a young man, it was common for her to pass her many days reading and writing and studying without seeing a single other soul. Other than, of course, her child, Garthy. A health ten years old, if she had to guess, though half orc aasimars weren’t her specialty, they were happy to spend their time sitting with her in her library, handing her the books that her hands were too old for, taking notes for when her eyes were beginning to fail her. 

She hadn’t been the best of mothers, of course. She had been woefully unprepared for the challenges of raising a child, especially one that had been left with her by an orc woman in the middle of the night, once for the child to be left for what Ayda had to presume was the rest of their lives. The orc woman had never come back, and knowing the Leviathan and a smattering of statistics, it was highly unlikely she ever would. 

But Ayda had taught Garthy how to read and write and how to use the magic within them, had learned to cook more then just a basic sandwich to feed her new child, and had even considered reaching out to Arthur to let him know about his new grandchild, though she had lost the nerve just before she had. So far she had given them all of the love that she could, in her own strange way of showing it, and Garthy was happy and healthy and seemed to be doing alright. 

And by the seven seas and the twelve stars and the nine hells, until the day her next reincarnation was to come, she would make sure that was the case. She loved her little child, the small creature that had so quickly grown from the squalling infant, her little Garthy, and even in her next life, she would make sure that Ayda loved them too. 

(And she would, even without the notes reminding her to love Garthy with all her heart, to love her child she couldn’t remember, Ayda would love them. Because Garthy would teach her how to reach and write and use the magic within her, and would love her with all of their heart, and even before Ayda could do so, as Garthy picked her newborn form out of the ashes, Ayda would love them.)


End file.
